Archie Bunker Vignettes
by KayEn78
Summary: Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by characters' Archie or Edith Bunker throughout the 1970's All in the Family TV series.
1. Chapter 1 - Shoebooty

Archie Bunker Vignettes

By: Kristi N. Zanker

**Author's Note: **I first wrote the following vignettes in 2003 and recently discovered them buried in the caverns of my computer. Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by characters' Archie or Edith Bunker throughout the 1970s _All in the Family_ TV series.

Since these events took place during another time in U.S. history, the language, people, places, and actions are as authentic to the 1930s and 1940s as I could create them without officially being there. This story can be heard in the eighth season episode, Two's A Crowd.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Bud Yorkin Productions, and Norman Lear/Tandem Productions. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _All in the Family. _No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** The following piece consists of mild language, some violence, and adult themes.

Shoebooty

February, 1934

"What's taking you so long?" Sarah Bunker, Archie's mother, called to him upstairs.

He couldn't find his other shoe. There was no more time to search for it now. Instead, Archie ran a comb through his brown hair and quickly looked out the window. The weather seemed deceiving, although the sun shone. Thick patches of glistening snow lay on the ground and wind whipped the branches on the tree next to the window, making a _clack-clack_ sound as they hit the house. _How am I going to get to school with only one shoe?_ He thought. Archie, almost entirely dressed for school, trampled downstairs to where his mother was waiting, sitting in a chair next to the cathedral-shaped radio listening to a Kate Smith song.

"Where are your shoes?" she asked, getting up from the chair.

She had on a well-worn gray cotton housedress that Archie thought was the only piece of clothing she owned. Still wearing it after he went to bed and here it was morning.

"One's lost and the other shoe has a big hole in it," he replied.

The sole to his only pair was sliver thin and after daily usage, a gaping hole now peeked through. Archie could feel everything on the ground when he walked, especially in winter.

"Maybe I can fix it," she told him.

"You can't."

"I can fix anything; bring it here."

He ran upstairs to get his shoe. Eight-year-old Fred shouted goodbye from the front door. The two hardly walked to school together anymore. His kid brother actually _enjoyed _school and didn't like to be late. When Archie came down with the shoe, two of his fingers poked through the hole, while the frayed and well-worn laces hung limp.

"This'll be the last time I sew this together," she said, rummaging through her sewing basket, which was next to the chair. After peering at his socks, she said, "I only wish I had time to darn those. But your shoe is more important right now."

All he could do was nod.

The radio now softly played "Please Don't Talk About Me (When I'm Gone)" by Bert Lown.

"Why can't you be more careful with your things?" his mother sighed as she placed a oblong piece of cardboard inside the shoe to cover the hole, then threaded a thick piece of white string through the eye of a needle. "You know because your father lost his job, money's been very tight."

"I know, Ma, I'm sorry, I'll try to be careful next time."

"Just be glad your father isn't here to see this."

"How am I going to get to school with only one shoe?" he asked.

"Well, let's see what we can find."

It only took her about ten minutes to sew the hole. Then, Archie's mother went to the hall closet and pulled out old umbrellas, Archie's father's hats, and several mismatched shoes much too small or large for him to wear at that moment. She finally found one boot in the back of the closet that Archie had the year before and handed it to him.

"Put this on."

It fit, but it was a tight squeeze when the buckles were latched. Archie had grown a little since last year. Luckily, he had a right shoe and a left boot. His mother kissed him on the cheek goodbye.

"Now run along; hurry before your father sees you."

Archie figured he was out looking for a job and would come home angry like any other day with no luck. He'd sit in his chair and curse at President Roosevelt for not helping him find a job with that "damned New Deal of his!" He'd sometimes shout obscenities during Fireside chats and Archie's mother would have to cover Fred's and Archie's ears. But both of them still heard what he said.

"Bye, Ma."

Grabbing his books and opening the door, he stepped out into the chilly February day. Winter had definitely worn out its welcome. The hole his mother had sewn could not keep out the fierce wind. He walked as fast as he could to school. Cars slowly made their way down the impacted ice-covered street. The motorists could not see the deadly obstacle until they began to slide uncontrollably. No accidents occurred though.

People on the street rushed on their way to work. With the way many were dressed, they probably didn't even know the Depression was going on. They wore long wool coats, donned matching hats, some of the garments were made of fur. The men wore black slacks that looked very clean, pressed, and new. Women had on color-coordinated, fancy hats with their dresses, blouses, sweaters or skirts. Even though they looked nice, compared to how Archie was dressed, an aura of snootiness followed them every which way. They pushed him out of their path on the sidewalk, as if they were more important.

His button down, light-blue shirt had two buttons missing and a gravy stain on the collar. His brown pants were worn through. It felt like he was wearing nothing at all. _If I had one of them long coats, I'd be so warm! _He said to himself, weaving in and out of people as he briskly walked.

Stores were beginning to open. Archie would always pass the bakery on the way to school. He'd smell the fresh bread and doughnuts being made. Another day, if there was time to spare; he'd watch the baker through the window as he placed doughnuts on the shelves to be purchased. Plain, chocolate, and even colorful frosted ones soon dotted the front window, enticing passersby with the look and aroma.

The young boy wished he had enough money to buy one. It would taste better than the thick, bland oatmeal his mother fed him every morning. But he knew if he'd bought a doughnut and his mother found out, she'd be hurt. She tried her hardest to keep things as normal as possible during these bleak days..

By the time he got to school, Archie couldn't wait to sit at his desk which was situated in the corner of the back row, near the radiator. After all, he didn't mind being in the hot seat then.. Even though he didn't like school, it was still better than being at home.

"Archie Bunker, you're late," said his teacher, Miss Bates, as he came into the room.

A few kids snickered as he went toward the cloakroom to hang up his tattered Navy blue peacoat. Some of them were better off than him in his class. Some classmates even had hats, gloves and _two_ boots or shoes. Archie suddenly felt lucky to have a coat, even though he saw those rich people on the street. He was better off than Elsie Graves, who came from a family of seven, and was only able to eat lunch two days a week. The rest of the days, he once heard her say, were for her younger brothers and sisters.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he replied, taking off his peacoat and hanging it on a hook in the cloakroom before heading to his desk.

"One more time you are late, Mr. Bunker, and you'll have to stay after school. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied again as he sat down in his desk.

The radiator hissed behind him, almost as if it were taunting him.

"Good."

Miss Bates stood in the front of the room, with her hands clasped to one another, as if she were going to pray. Her dark blue dress and brown hair in a fiercely tight bun matched her personality—cold, bitter, and dull.

"Well class, today we are going to write letters to President Roosevelt. I read in the newspaper that children across the country have done this and thought we should give it a try. Now, take out your pencils while I hand out some paper."

When Miss Bates finished passing out the paper, the room became silent as they began to write. Archie began his letter.

_Dear Mr. Presadent,_

_ I'm Archie Bunker. I hav a brother Fred and mother and a father. Can you give my father a job? He comes home cersing you becase you havnt yet. _

_ Sinserly,_

_ Archie Bunker_

Archie pretended to write more while the others' heads were still bent. He couldn't think of anything else to add. That was all he wanted to ask the President anyway.

"Archie? Are you finished already?" Miss Bates asked as she stood by his desk.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Then I'd like to see what you have written."

He handed it to her and watched her eyes dart across the page.

"I've never read such a terrible letter in all my life! I will _not_ have this. You won't be sending_ this_ to the President of the United States! Why some of these words were on last week's spelling test and I see you haven't studied them. And the grammar, my word! Certainly President Roosevelt wouldn't take such a letter seriously!" She crumpled up the paper and threw it in the wastebasket.

"Write another one," she demanded.

Again, he heard some classmates giggle as she placed another sheet of paper in front of him. Archie sighed. He didn't know what to ask the President now. He was only telling the truth.

When Miss Bates stood at this desk again nearly ten minutes later, she found the boy still staring at the blank sheet of paper.

"Haven't you written anything yet?" she asked.

"I don't know what to say," he replied, shaking his head.

"Well, I'll give you until the end of recess to write something, if you don't, you'll stay after school and do it."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, as he began to write _Dear…_

For once, he was elated about staying in from recess. That radiator continued to hiss—now as if to encourage him.

Miss Bates collected everyone else's paper and then led them out into the snow. She followed them outside seconds later, only turning back once to bark at Archie about writing a decent letter and having until the end of recess to complete it.

The room was silent now and he had an idea. Archie slowly got up from his seat and walked over to the teacher's desk. Stacked neatly next to a cup that held three fountain pens and several pencils, stood the letters. He grabbed them and glanced at each one quickly. Elsie had asked for money. Their rent had been late again, she wrote, and some men kept knocking on their door, demanding money. If they didn't give the money soon, she had written, they'd throw their things on the street, including them. Bobby Henderson had asked for a stove to cook food on and stay warm. The rest were pretty much the same. Only they weren't written the way Archie's had been. He checked the spelling on theirs and believed it was correct. Worrying that Miss Bates would be back to check on him, he ran to his desk and began his second letter to President Roosevelt.

_Dear Mr. President,_

_ My name is Archie Bunker. My father has no job. You said on the radio that with your New Deal, you can help people like my father find a job. He is a smart man and can do anything. Please give him a job soon. Our rent is due. _

_ Sincerely,_

_ Archie Bunker_

The last part was a lie. Archie's relatives had been helping them with the rent. But he had hoped FDR would read his letter first, and get his father a job, so that he wouldn't be home much.

When Miss Bates returned with the rest of the class, she read over Archie's letter.

"This is an improvement," she smiled at him and stuck it in the pile with the rest. Archie grinned to himself, glad that he hadn't been caught..

When everyone had sat down at their desks, Miss Bates told them that she was going to send them to President Roosevelt that afternoon. Next she gave the class a spelling test and Archie spelled every word wrong, except his name.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do with you," Miss Bates told him.

"I don't know either, Ma'am," was all he could think of to say.

When school ended for the day, Archie went out into the bitter cold sunshine and headed toward home. The snow wasn't too deep, but the well-worn shoe and boot still didn't make it any warmer. Archie saw his classmates throwing snowballs at each other and some girls shrieking while sliding on a patch of ice, attempting to mimic the graceful moves of famous Olympic ice skater Sonja Henie. Archie had seen her in a newsreel at the movie house several times. Two years ago, she had won an Olympic Gold medal. After today, Archie didn't know what was better, to stay at home or be at school. If he had it his way, he'd stay at the movies every day. He'd hide in the back of the theater where no one would find him.

The boy felt so alone. His brother Fred always brought home good marks from school. At that particular moment, he made a promise to himself that he'd study harder for his spelling tests and do better at everything in school. Suddenly, several dark shadows loomed above. In front of him blocking the sidewalk stood Winston Walker, the only colored kid in his class, Bobby Henderson, who seemed larger than life, and Charlie Smith, who was small, but looked as tough as the rest of them. Then, there was Freddy Weaver, who seemed wider than life.

"Hey, Bunker, whaddya got there, sissy," growled Bobby, who pushed Archie's textbooks and papers out of his hands. While the stray papers fluttered to the sidewalk, two pencils hit the ground and Charlie stepped on them. Winston picked them up and cracked both in half with one hand. That got Archie's attention.

"I'm talkin' to ya, you damn sissy," Bobby shouted.

"I hear ya, so can all of New York City," Archie answered.

"Did your mother dress you?" Charlie sneered at him. "She must be blind. I can tell the difference between a shoe and a boot."

"Yeah, but you can't find your ass with both hands," Archie shot back, using an expression his father repeated often about people he didn't like.

"Know what your name should be? Shoebooty. A sissy name for a sissy." Bobby said.

"Tutti Fruity, here comes Shoebooty," they all chanted and then laughed. Archie wanted to punch out every one of them, he hated when people made fun of his mother. And how can Bobby be so cruel, they were in the same boat.

"Shuddup all of youse!" Archie yelled.

Bobby pushed Archie to the ground.

"Look at that, Shoebooty really _is_ a sissy," said Winston, who spoke for the first time.

"I ain't a sissy, you nigger!" Archie yelled and stood up ready to punch all of them. He suddenly felt his face cave in on the left side. Winston had punched him first.

"Don't you ever call me that again, you hear me Shoebooty!?" He punched Archie in the nose this time and Charlie pushed him to the ground. Winston kicked him in the shin. A throbbing sensation crept up his lower leg. Archie winced, trying not to cry. He tried to stand up, but Bobby knocked him down again, cursing him, and calling him Shoebooty. Archie hurled back a few curse words. He knew that if his mother heard him, she'd shove a bar of soap far into his mouth to get it as clean as possible. Bobby gave Archie another kick, this time in the stomach and the four of them ran down the street, laughing, turning back to throw more curses and insults at him. Winston threw a snowball at Archie that landed on his head.

"You shouldn't've done that to Shoebooty, Winston, it would make him even more dumb!" Bobby said. All they did was laugh.

Archie couldn't understand why Winston roughed him up. He only called him what his father always said people like Winston were. And his father never got into a fight; he was always right and knew a lot. Archie tried to stand up, but his body protested. He felt queasy and tasted blood. He ran his hand across his nose and saw more blood. _This isn't worse than what Pop does to me_, he thought to himself. He found his textbooks, and the remains of his schoolwork, wet with the ink from Miss Bates' marks of D's and F's with comments that were no longer legible, dripping down the pages. His mother would not be happy when Archie would walk in the front door. And neither would his father.

His mind churned on the way home, replaying the events of this afternoon and wondering what he would face when he got there. He tried to take care of the things his parents gave him, but it was hard. He didn't mean to lose his shoe, and the other boot had disappeared.

One of Archie's chores each day was to get the mail out of the mailbox. This was a task he actually liked. But lately, all they were getting were bills, so it wasn't as fun as it used to be. When his father worked for the Long Island Railroad as a brakeman, Archie enjoyed getting the mail; sometimes a letter or a package would be waiting for him from his grandmother. She always sent him cookies. He even liked getting the bills then even though his father groaned about how high they were all the time. They were able to afford to pay them when he worked for the Long Island Railroad. Now, his father had been out of work for months.

Archie opened the mailbox to find a few envelopes inside. He grabbed them, closed the lid and ran up the steps into the house. He didn't want to say hello to his mother yet. He hoped he could run straight to the bathroom to clean himself up. He dropped the envelopes on the small table by the door and took off his coat.

"Hello, Archie, how was your day at school?" his mother greeted him before he could run upstairs. Archie didn't have time to answer because his mother had seen his face. "Archie! What happened to you!"

"I—I ran into—" _No! I can't lie to Ma! _His mind shouted. "I—got into a fight today at school, Ma. These four boys punched me."

"Why would they do such a thing to you?!"

"I don't know. They didn't like my shoe and boot, I guess." He shuddered at the nickname branded to him only twenty minutes before.

"I'm sorry, Archie, but you have to take better care of your things. These are hard times, you know that. We can't run out and buy things, even if your father even _had_ a job."

At that moment, his mother saw his sopping wet textbooks and crumpled schoolwork at his feet.

"Oh, Archie! What did I _just_ tell you?" she said.

"You saw it before I could show you," he replied.

She sighed as she took the textbooks and papers into the kitchen and laid them on the table. She then mopped up the puddle that had formed as Archie stood in the front hall. After that, the two of them went upstairs and his mother helped Archie wash the blood off of his face. He sat on the closed toilet lid. The pull-chain, hanging from the large tank four feet above him, tapped on his shoulder. Archie pushed the pull-chain away, but all it did was hit him back.

When he was six years old, Archie had been terrified of the tank that seemed to balance itself on the top portion of the toilet. When he pulled the chain to flush, he would run out of the bathroom so fast, thinking that the tank would fall and crush him if he pulled it one too many times. But he wasn't a dumb kid anymore, he knew better. He gave a loud sigh.

"Did Pop find a job yet?" he asked his mother as she rummaged through the linen closet for a washcloth. She found one, soaked it in warm water and gently dabbed Archie's face. He winced when the cloth touched him.

She shook her head. Archie knew not to ask anything else about that.

"Where's Fred?" he asked.

"Doing homework. You have any?" His mother asked as she rinsed out the washcloth and laid it over the side of the claw bathtub.

"Yeah, I have to study for a spelling test," Archie replied glumly.

"Okay, you can do that after dinner. What did you do in school today, besides get into a fight?"

"We wrote letters to President Roosevelt. I wrote asking him to give Pop a job."

"We can only hope for the best." She hugged Archie. "Try not to get into any more fights."

"I'll try."

His mother left the bathroom and headed downstairs to fix dinner.

It was then that Archie made the promise to himself—again—about trying to do better in school. He'd do his best to take care of his things, and even find odd jobs around the neighborhood. With the money he earned, Archie would help pay for or buy his mother anything else she may need...

For a moment, he felt very grown up and then tears stung as the pain crept up in his stomach, and reaching to his battered face. _So much for being a grown-up, _he thought to himself as he shut the bathroom door. He didn't want his mother and Fred to see or hear him cry.

Copyright © 2003 by Kristi N. Zanker


	2. Chapter 2 - The Closet

Archie Bunker Vignettes

By: Kristi N. Zanker

**Author's Note: **I first wrote the following vignettes in 2003 and recently discovered them buried in the caverns of my computer. Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by Archie or Edith throughout different episodes of _All in the Family_. Since these events take place in another time during our history, the language, people, places, and actions are as authentic to the 1930s and 1940s as I can create them without officially being there. This story can be heard in the eighth season episode Two's A Crowd.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Bud Yorkin Productions, and Norman Lear/Tandem Productions. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _All in the Family_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** The following piece consists of mild language, some violence, and adult themes.

The Closet

August, 1936

Archie Bunker had been doing odd jobs around the neighborhood for two years now. In the winters, he'd shovel snow, in the summers; he'd walk some of the neighbors' dogs, wash cars, or do grocery shopping for the invalid woman who lived down the street. When Archie had money, he gave it to his mother. She'd smile at him and hand him a nickel to keep for himself. "You're still a young boy," she told him often. "Go get some candy." Archie would rush up to his room and plunk the nickel into a glass jar that he hid on the shelf in his closet. He had a secret; he was saving his money for a bicycle. Only his mother knew that. Once in awhile, he'd break his habit of saving and spend a Saturday afternoon at the movies. His mother didn't mind him doing that, but his father, on the other hand, felt it was foolish. He thought his oldest son was wasting his money. To Archie, going to the movies was an escape from the world around him.

_The movies must be an escape for everyone_, Archie thought as he walked into the cool theater. Fans blew on huge blocks of ice in the back of the theater, causing the place to feel cold air. It was August and the temperature still reached above 90 degrees. The theater was filled with kids eating candy and bags of popcorn. Archie never had any money for the concession stand. The smell of popcorn was hypnotizing; on this day, Archie wished he had taken another nickel out of his bank. He found an empty seat near the back and waited for the curtain to be pulled back. About five minutes later, the large, thick red curtains vanished, unveiling the white screen while the projector flickered as it began the first feature. They always began with a series of cartoons, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, or _Popeye_. Archie would laugh along with the audience. Then came the newsreel of world events. The announcer talked about Jesse Owens winning four Olympic Gold Medals and how Germany's _Fuhrer_, Hitler, had not congratulated him. Archie thought all colored people were good athletes—especially runners and basketball players. The feature presentation began after the newsreel.

This week, they showed the newest movie with Shirley Temple-_Poor Little Rich Girl_. It was about a little girl who joins a vaudeville act after leaving her wealthy, yet motherless home. There was another reason Archie had saved up for this movie. His favorite movie star and pin-up, Alice Faye was also starring. Archie smiled to himself when he saw her on the screen. He thought she was the most beautiful dame in the world, with her soft blond curls and hourglass figure.

He knew some things about girls from talking with his friends, Bobby Henderson and Charlie Smith. After the incident with Winston Walker back in fourth grade, Charlie and Bobby often saw Archie around the neighborhood looking for work. They were all doing odd jobs. At first, the encounters were filled with harsh words and fists, but soon, after a neighbor threatened to call their parents, they learned to get along. Archie found out that their fathers were similar to his. Neither of them talked about that much though. Archie didn't like to tell certain things about his family. Instead, the three boys talked about girls, or how much money they saved up that week. They each had a respectable item they were saving for—Archie had his hopes on a bicycle, Bobby wanted the new board game Monopoly, and Charlie wanted a Lionel train set. As for the other two bullies, Winston had moved away last year and Freddy Weaver went to another school. Archie wouldn't have been friends with Winston anyway, if he had stayed. He felt that becoming friends with a colored person was unusual and he knew his father would definitely not approve of such a thing.

After school or doing odd jobs, the three boys would go over to someone's house and talk about girls for hours. Bobby had a seventeen-year-old brother who clued him into the facts of life. When he had new information, he'd share it with Archie and Charlie. Archie never told them about Alice though. When they talked about girls, Archie would always say something about a girl in his class or another movie star. He wanted to keep his feelings about Alice Faye to himself. No other girl or movie star made him feel the way she did.

Halfway through the movie, Archie daydreamed about Alice. He dreamt about meeting her and what would happen at that first meeting. When Alice would see him, she would be so surprised at how much older he looked. She wouldn't be able to resist putting her arms around him, wanting him to feel everything she had. Then, she'd kiss him. By this point in the daydream, Archie had a strange feeling that went below his stomach. He thanked the Lord the theater was dark. He also got that feeling when he'd stare at her picture in the movie magazine.

Archie had been looking for Fred one day last week to help him with his chores. He went up to his room, but Fred wasn't there. Instead, Archie found a movie magazine on top of Fred's dresser. He snatched it and leafed through it. There were two pictures of Alice Faye. In his mother's sewing kit, Archie found a pair of scissors and cut out the two pictures. After he put the magazine back where he'd found it, he locked himself in the bathroom. He'd stare at the pictures and daydream. The fights with his brother, the beatings from his father, would disappear from his mind, while Alice filled it. Luckily, he was home alone at the time. He did not want anyone to know what he did in the bathroom. He wasn't sure if anyone else did this sort of thing. So, he kept it private, not even telling Bobby or Charlie about it. Along with the movies, the special daydreams also took him away from the harsh world; even if they only lasted about a minute.

While sitting in the theater, Archie tried to clear his mind of Alice, but every time she was on the screen, he couldn't help himself. That feeling was still there. _This_ _is not supposed to happen here!_ His mind screamed. He thought these feelings could only happen while he was in the bathroom, alone. He tried to focus on the storyline, but Alice would not leave him be. Archie was confused. _Maybe I could talk to Fred later on…no, what did a ten-year-old know about anything?_ He was twelve.

Everyone clapped and cheered when the movie ended. When the lights came on, Archie flocked out of the theater with the other children. The strange feeling had faded away and he was glad. He walked home alone, thinking about the movie, what he could remember of it before the daydreams started.

When he walked in the door, Archie's mother had dinner on the table. _Was it that late already?_ He thought.

"Is Pop home yet?" Archie asked as his mother put a bowl of stew in front of him.

His brother Fred helped himself to seconds from the large pot on the stove. Archie's father finally got a job through one of Roosevelt's New Deal programs. Archie could never remember which program. There were so many of them. But he knew his father did a lot of digging at his new job. He'd come home often with dirt splattered all over his coveralls. Even though Archie's father finally had a job, he still cursed Roosevelt during the Fireside chats.

"No, he should be home soon." His mother answered.

"Oh, don't say nothin' about the movies, okay?" said Archie.

"Don't worry," she replied and mussed his hair.

"Okay Fred?" Archie looked over at his brother, who now sat across from him.

"Don't worry, I won't say nothin', " his younger brother replied.

At that moment, the back door flew open and David Bunker bounded in. The force of the door banged into the icebox, which startled Archie.

"You!" He shouted at Archie with a wagging finger. "I saw you!"

"Pop! What did I do?" Archie suddenly lost his appetite.

"I saw you—wastin' the day at that damned movie house!"

He took two giant leaps and stood in front of Archie, breathing hard. Archie smelled liquor on his breath—whiskey.

"David, please! He doesn't get to go anywhere fun," said Archie's mother.

"You stay out of this!" He snapped at her and then turned to his oldest son. "Fun! You think life is fun! I'm out there day after day bustin' my ass so you can have a roof over your head, clothes on your back. Whaddya do?!"

"Pop, I went to work this morning, I walked Mrs. Meyers' dog."

"Walked a dog," he spat. "I dug a hole all day today. You don't know what hard work is. Life isn't fun! Life is hard, if you want to get anywhere—which I know you won't, if you keep seeing those movies." Archie felt his throat tighten as his father grabbed him by the collar, forcing him out of his chair.

"If I ever see you walking away from that place again—" He didn't even finish his sentence because his other hand slapped Archie across the face.

The right side of his face stung. Archie's father hit him again, this time his head involuntarily snapped back. He could feel tears stinging and his ears ringing.

"David! Stop it!" cried Archie's mother.

"Pop, that's enough! He didn't do nothing!" Fred chimed in. His mother's and Fred's words went right past his father, who rapped him one more time. Archie tasted blood.

"I do my best to teach you to do good, and this is how you repay me? You _waste_ our money! I give you nice things and you _destroy_ them!"

His father stared at the space in Archie's shirt where a button should've been. Then he pushed Archie out of the kitchen and into the foyer. With one last shove, he fell into the closet. His father slammed the door, and Archie heard the skeleton key being taken out. He was trapped.

His parent's voices became muffled as they argued outside the door. He heard footsteps upstairs and assumed Fred had gone to hide in his room. Archie was still and silent. He didn't want to upset his father anymore. He tried to think of how his father found out about him going to the movies. Fred didn't say anything. He must've seen Archie walking home, while at the bar. He made a mental note to walk home a different way from now on to avoid the bar down the street where his father often visited.

Archie's hand gently touched his face. He winced when he felt blood on his upper lip and used his shirt to wipe it off. He wasn't going to cry this time. This wasn't any worse than what had happened in the past. Archie thought he was doing the right thing, by finding odd jobs around the neighborhood and giving the money he earned to his mother. He loved her so much, and wanted to see her happy. She had never hurt him. His mother was very kind to let him keep a nickel for his bicycle. He tried to think of this afternoon at the movies, where it was cool and Alice Faye was on the screen. But Alice did not show up in his dream this time. _Alice, where are you?_ His mind asked. _Come back!_ No matter how hard he thought about her, Alice would not appear.

Archie used his shirt to soak up the beads of sweat that formed as the air in the closet stood still. From inside, the whole house seemed quiet. Archie no longer heard footsteps upstairs. He imagined his father passed out in a drunken sleep, next to his mother in their bedroom. The clock in the living room chimed one o'clock. It was Sunday. He had been in there for seven hours now. Archie's stomach begged for food. This wouldn't be the first time he'd gone to bed without supper. But this would be the first time he didn't go to bed at all. Archie tried to sleep, but the heat was unbearable. He must've fallen asleep because the clock woke him up, along with his soaked clothes. His face was still sore from the beating. Archie was going to look for work again in the morning, just to get out of the house. After all, he didn't really like Sundays because his father was home all day. If he couldn't find work, then he'd head over to Bobby or Charlie's to see what they were up to. He knew the two of them would say something the next time they saw him. But it didn't really bother Archie anymore; they all would know who had hurt him. He also hoped that he could find some time to talk with Fred about girls to see if he knew anything. That thought cracked a tiny smile. His mouth hurt so much; it was hard to smile a lot.

He heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. For an instant, Archie thought it was his father, but he didn't have soft footsteps. He clomped when he walked, whereas Fred shuffled a little. Archie heard the key turn in the lock and saw his mother clad in her nightgown and bathrobe.

"Archie, come on out of there," she whispered, and held out her hand. He grabbed it, pressing his thin body against hers. His eyes stung. It was okay to cry in front of his mother now.

"It's okay, your father didn't mean any of what he said or did." She rocked him back and forth. But the boy knew better. His mother used statements like that often, sticking up for David and his actions. Archie used to believe what she said about his father, but not anymore.

"Why didn't you get me out earlier?" Archie asked.

"I couldn't, he said he would-never mind. Let's get you into the bath," she answered, avoiding the question. It was something else she did frequently as well.

"I'm still hungry," he said.

"You can eat afterward." She gently led him upstairs to the bathroom. His pajamas were neatly folded on the closed toilet lid. He turned around and stared at his mother for a moment.

"I remember when you and Fred used to take a bath together. Oh, where did the time go?"

Archie was embarrassed. _What brought that up?_

"Ma, please, I need my privacy."

"You're growing up so fast these days. I keep forgetting you're not my little boy anymore." She quietly closed the door.

Every time Archie went into the bathroom, he always checked his secret hiding place to see if the two pictures of Alice were still there. Now, Alice had come into his mind. _Why hadn't she been there before, when I really needed her?_ He thought. Oh well, she was there and he didn't mind at all. The confrontation with his father was nearly forgotten. He was glad the thoughts about Alice could help him forget things like that.

Archie had hid the two pictures inside an empty bottle of pills that stood in the back of the medicine cabinet. He knew no one would look there. The large glass bottle had been well hidden. Also, the bottle was dark, so no one could see inside. Archie opened the mirrored cabinet, moved the smaller bottles out the way and gasped. The large bottle was gone! Archie cursed to himself, slammed the cabinet shut and ran the bathwater. Butterflies formed in his stomach, someone else found out about his secret hiding place! It must have been Fred! After all, he had noticed the pictures were missing in his magazine. After the tub was full, Archie hid underwater. He wished he could hold his breath long enough to stay under forever. Nothing was going right.

A half hour later, his mother put a steaming bowl of stew in front of him. Archie attacked the food as if it were the last time he would ever eat. The bath had cooled him off, so he didn't mind the hot left-over dinner. He finished the bowl in ten minutes, hugged and kissed his mother and went up to bed. Safe in his room, Archie heard the door to his parents room close and the house was silent. Sleep came easily to him. For once, he felt content.

Copyright © 2003 by Kristi N. Zanker


	3. Chapter 3 - The Bicycle

Archie Bunker Vignettes

By: Kristi N. Zanker

**Author's Note: **I first wrote the following vignettes in 2003 and recently discovered them buried in the caverns of my computer. Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by Archie or Edith throughout different episodes of _All in the Family_. Since these events take place in another time during our history, the language, people, places, and actions are as authentic to the 1930s and 1940s as I can create them without officially being there. This story can be found in the eighth season episode, Archie Gets the Business – Part 1.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Bud Yorkin Productions, and Norman Lear/Tandem Productions. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _All in the Family_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** The following piece consists of mild language, some violence, and adult themes.

The Bicycle

August, 1936

In the morning, around seven, wearing clean black pants and a blue-and-white checkered button down short-sleeved shirt, Archie was ready to look for work. He remembered when his father went out to look for jobs; he'd always dress his best, even if the job dealt with digging, painting or another "dirty" job. After that, he dressed in old clothes or coveralls for the digging job he got and had said, "When looking for a job, make a good first impression." Archie wasn't sure his impression would be the best this time because of his face. He stared into the small mirror on his wall, next to the closet door. There was a small bruise on his cheek and another near his eye, which hurt like hell of they were touched. His lip still looked very fat. It was sore when Archie talked, but he did his best of ignore it. Archie sighed. _The people who might want to hire me may think I liked to get into fights a lot and not hire me_ _for anything. Oh well, all I could do is try today_, he thought_. _Even though his father drank a lot at times, he still did his job well and brought home money for food and the house payments. Archie wanted to do well at any job he got. He picked up the comb on his dresser, finished parting his brown hair and glanced at himself one more time. Most of him looked all right.

Often when he went out to look for work, the neighbors or elderly women would fuss over him and say what a handsome and well-behaved boy he was. Archie would be polite to them, but feel so humiliated on the inside. He knew some of the ladies had poor vision and hearing, so he would say a very vulgar remark about them in his mind. If they could hear what he thought, Archie was sure they would say he certainly didn't know how to respect his elders and belonged in reform school. Then later on, he'd tell Bobby or Charlie what he thought and they would burst into hysterics.

Before he could go downstairs for breakfast, Archie had something very important to do. He went to the closet and pulled down a Mason jar filled with various coins. On most Sundays, if he worked any time during the week, he would count the money he had saved. Each time, the amount was a little higher and the jar became slightly heavier. Archie poured the coins onto his hastily made bed and counted them. There was an assortment of nickels, pennies, dimes and even a few quarters. When he finished sorting through them, the boy smiled to himself. In the two years that he had been doing odd jobs, he saved about ten dollars. He thought it was enough to buy a bicycle, but he wasn't sure. He scooped up the coins and put them back into the jar. As he placed it back into the closet, a knock sounded on his door. He quickly shut the closet door and ran to see who stood in the hall. He knew it wasn't his father because he would not have knocked first. His mother stood there, in her usual drab light gray house dress. An aroma of eggs and bacon filled his room.

"Ma? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Archie held the door open wider. His mother came and sat on his bed. He sat next to her. She took his hands into hers.

"Archie, you don't have to look for work today. It's Sunday," she said sadly.

"I know…I just thought I'd better get a head start."

"You've done this before."

"Done what?"

"Every time your father…the next day you always get up early, eat quickly and leave the house. Have you ever found work on a Sunday?"

Archie shook his head.

"I know you leave the house because your father is home all day, but while you're gone, he stays in bed the whole day."

"I didn't know that. Why is he in bed all day?"

"From drinking too much."

"Oh. Well, when I can't find work, I go over to Charlie or Bobby's house."

"You won't have to go anywhere today. From now on, you stay home and rest on Sunday. I know how hard you work during the week, especially when you're at school."

"Oh."

"How does your face feel?"

"It's not bad." He hated telling the fib to his mother, but he wanted to be strong.

"Do you need any ice?"

"No, I'll be okay."

"I'll bet you're hungry."

Archie smiled and he quietly gasped while his mother's back was to him, opening the door. He gently put his hand to his mouth. His stomach growled.

"Come on, I'll fix you something," she said as she went down the stairs.

He got up and followed her to the kitchen. _Ma knows everything! Maybe _she_ knows what happened to the pictures of Alice Faye._ _Oh God! I hope not!_

At the table, Archie told his mother how much he had saved in his money jar.

"That's wonderful! I think that's enough for a bicycle. I'll talk to your father about it," she said.

"No! Ma, don't do that—I don't want him to know!"

"Archie, I have to discuss everything with your father."

"I know, but _please_, don't tell him about this."

His mother placed a plate of sunny-side up eggs and bacon in front of him.

"He'll find out when he sees the bicycle."

"No, he won't," Archie replied. "I was going to hide it in Charlie's or Bobby's basement in their apartment building."

"Oh, Archie, you wouldn't."

"Well, I've asked for a bicycle for Christmas for two years. Now, that I have saved my money, I won't be disappointed this Christmas."

He smashed the yellow yoke of the eggs with his fork.

"Archie, you know we don't have the money for those kinds of things."

"But I do, I saved up for it."

"I still have to talk with your father."

His mother began to wash the dishes in the sink.

All Archie could do at that moment was sigh. It was no use. His hopes for a bicycle, even though he had the money, were slim. He ate in silence. The radio in the living room played a tune by Al Jolson.

"You have any laundry?" Archie's mother asked him from the sink.

"Yeah."

"When you're finished, bring it here and I'll wash it for you. Tell Fred I'm doing laundry."

Archie nodded and watched his mother take out the washboard from under the sink and set it on the counter.

"When I'm finished in here, you can help me hang it outside on the line," she continued.

"Okay."

Archie felt embarrassed. He hoped Bobby or Charlie would not come around and see him hanging clothes on the line, especially his underwear or pajamas, or worse his _mother's_ undergarments. Only mothers did that kind of work.

Just then, Fred ambled into the kitchen and went straight to the stove. Bacon still sizzled while the stove was on low. After he put two eggs and some bacon on his plate, Fred sat down across from Archie and stared at him.

"Gee, Pop really did a number on you," he said.

"Gee, thanks for the cheerful good morning." Archie gave him a smirk.

"You two enjoy your breakfast. I have to go see if your father needs any medicine. I cleaned out the cabinet yesterday and found three empty bottles. Put your dishes in the soap when you're finished." Archie's mother told both of them.

She went out of the kitchen and into the living room. The Al Jolson song that had been playing on the radio had ended and she had switched it off. Archie felt the insides of his stomach almost about to reject the delicious food. _So, it was _Ma_ who threw away Alice…she probably never knew about the pictures. Thank God!_

"What's the matter with you? You look sick," asked Fred.

_Fred sure notices everything! _His mind wailed.

"Not as sick as Pop," retorted Archie.

The two dissolved into a fit of giggles.

He watched as Fred shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He then got up, went to the icebox and found a bottle of milk. It was half-full.

"Good thing the milkman comes tomorrow morning. You drink like a cow," remarked Fred.

"Knock it off, Fred. I wanna ask you something," retorted Archie as he set the bottle of milk on the table.

Archie was silent for a few moments as he poured himself a glassful.

"Well, what is it?" asked Fred.

"Fred, could I—what do you know—about-?"

"What's the matter with you?"

"Whaddyaknowaboutgirls?"

"I know some things about girls."

Archie was surprised his brother understood what he'd said after speaking so fast.

"You do?"

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Just some things."

"Well, you know how girls are—" his younger brother began.

"Jeez, Fred! Not here! Upstairs."

"Okay then, upstairs it is."

They finished breakfast as if their favorite radio program was on and couldn't miss this week's adventure. Soap flew out of the bucket in the sink as they tossed their plates in for their mother to clean.

Fred lay on the made-up bed across from where Archie was on his bed. That bed was hardly ever used unless a relative came over for the holidays or a visit. A night stand with a Big Ben alarm clock and a box of tissue stood between them. He was curious and yet, amused as to what his younger brother knew about girls.

"I know some girls like to kiss boys. I'd never do that though," said Fred.

"Not even when you're older?" Archie asked.

"Not even then. When I was at the movies one time, I sat in the balcony," Fred continued.

"You're not supposed to sit there, Fred."

"I know, but I wanted to see what it was like up there. I never sat in the balcony before."

"What did you see?"

A few weeks ago, Archie had gone to the movies and sat in the balcony. He couldn't remember what picture was playing. Instead, he watched couples neck, while he hid in the last row. Questions had swarmed in his mind at the time. _When did they come up for air? How did they feel while doing that? What did it feel like to a girl when a guy put his hand in her blouse? How did the guy feel when he did those things?_ That strange feeling came but it wasn't as intense as it had been while watching Alice Faye in the movie. Of course, _she_ wasn't doing anything like those girls in the balcony had been doing. He couldn't even get a straight answer from Charlie or Bobby when he told them what he had seen while at the movies.

"I saw one guy put his hand up a girl's dress," replied Fred.

"Fred! Don't ever look at that again!"

Archie had seen that too.

"The girl looked like the ones in the movie magazine I found," his younger brother said.

"And where did you get that?" Archie knew full well his brother didn't have any money at all.

"None of your business," Fred retorted.

"Tell me!"

"I stole it from the magazine stand near the bakery. There was a large crowd there and snuck in and took one. They won't miss it," said Fred.

A strong cool breeze from the window blew into the room, causing the curtains in the window to lift in the air. Archie was surprised at his brother, for he had only stolen candy when he was a kid.

"Jeez, Fred, maybe Pop oughta knock some sense into you instead of me."

"Well, you asked me about girls and I'm trying to tell you what I know. But that's all I know."

"Thanks _a lot_, Fred."

Archie couldn't understand why he felt disappointed; he knew his baby brother wouldn't know anything.

"I wanna tell you something, Fred."

Archie sat up on his bed and faced his brother across from him.

"I'm your older brother and I don't even want to find out that you went to the balcony or stole a magazine or anything like that again!"

"What about you? Hiding pictures in the bathroom. What did you do that for?"

"None of your damn business!"

"You sound just like Pop."

"Never mind that…it's something I don't need to tell you about. You'll find out soon enough, when you're my age."

"I'm still not going to kiss a girl."

"Okay, Fred."

Just then, they heard a scraping sound from the washboard in the kitchen downstairs. His mother must've started doing the laundry. Hearing that noise, Archie suddenly remembered their clothes.

"Fred, go bring your dirty laundry down to Ma."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"No, she asked me to tell you. Now, get out of here."

"Okay, okay."

Fred got up and left the room. Archie sighed as he gathered up his dirty clothes. _That's the last time I ever ask Fred about girls! He doesn't know anything! But neither do I._

After dinner that night, while his mother did the dishes, she decided it was the right time to bring up the money Archie had saved. Archie could hear everything from the living room, while listening to a program on the radio. Fred was upstairs finishing his homework. He was always doing his homework. Archie remembered not long ago when his father preached about how smart Fred was in his studies and received good marks. His father had also said that if the Depression lifted, he would only be able to send one of his children to college. Fred would win that prize. He went on to say that if Archie put his own brains inside of a bird, it would fly backwards. Archie felt hurt, but he really didn't care all that much about college anyway, since it was so far away. Now he could hear his father's voice boom above the voices on the radio.

"Gee, thanks, Ma." Archie muttered. _Why did she have to tell him for? _His mind wailed.

"He's had money all this time and you didn't tell me?" That was his father.

"Well, he's been saving it for something special," Archie heard his mother say.

"Like what, another mind?"

"David, please. Archie tries so hard in school and finding odd jobs around here."

"How much did he save?"

"Ten dollars."

"_Ten dollars_!? We could _use_ that money, Sarah! I can't _believe_ my own son would be that selfish and _you!_ How _dare_ you keep something like this from me?"

Archie stomach began to clench, his father's footsteps came closer and the radio was abruptly turned off. Suddenly, his father stood over him.

"What were you saving that money for, you dumb Meathead?!"

"Pop—I—I was going to give—"

Archie's father grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out of the chair next to the radio.

"Tell me!" He shook him twice.

"A bicycle," Archie managed to squeeze the words through his throat and his father's hand.

"You know what ten dollars can buy us, son? Probably not because you're a Meathead."

"David! Let go of him!" His mother stood behind him. Time seemed to stop while his father held onto him. But it really was only a few seconds. He left go and Archie fell back into the chair. He rubbed his throat.

"Go get the money. I want all of it down here."

Archie quickly got up and ran to his room. He shut the door and leaned against it, shaken. He wanted to cry. _How could Pop take away my money like that? I'd saved it for _two_ years! _Archie slowly went to the closet, which had been the hiding place for so long and took out the jar. He hugged it for the last time. As each step he took downstairs, the dreams of getting a bicycle were just a figment of his imagination. When his father saw the jar, he grabbed it from him and put the change into his pants pockets.

"No bicycle for you, Meathead. This money is for more important things," he spat.

His mother sat motionless in the chair. _Help me!_ Archie's mind screamed for his mother. At that moment, he felt ashamed for both his parents. That was all he needed.

Archie ran up the stairs, into his room again, slammed the door and belly-flopped on his bed. While sobbing into his pillow, he heard a knock at his door and Fred asking if he was okay. Archie didn't get up to answer the door.

_I worked so hard for that money!_ His parents' voices were muffled. _Why did Ma just sit there?_ She helped him out before. But Archie guessed this might've been too much for her as well. After all, she would give him a little money to save or to spend at the movies. She must've felt responsible too, for his father's actions. The shame for his mother began to slowly lift. But the disgrace for his father lingered in the pit of his stomach.

He began to recall when the times were good with his father. He remembered way before the Depression when his father would play ball with him in the park, or bring home candy for everyone. Archie had some early childhood memories of his father holding his hand while crossing the street. He didn't want his boy to be hurt. He didn't hit him then. But Archie also believed his father was right about anything and everything. _Like the closet, this must be another lesson to teach me to do good._ Archie thought. His father never hurt Fred though. Fred did everything right in his father's eyes. His father would probably find some way to say that stealing a movie magazine was okay. Archie didn't know what to do now. Everything he did turned into a disaster. The boy buried his face into his pillow and cried himself to sleep. He hoped things would get better from now on.

A few days later, Archie's father came home around dinner time and announced to everyone what he had done with the money. He said he put it in the bank for Archie. His mother said that was a good idea. Archie stared at her. She had told him that the bicycle was a good idea too. He then stared at his father, as he took a drink of beer. Archie knew the truth. His father didn't put that money in the bank, he never intended to all along.

Copyright © 2003 by Kristi N. Zanker


	4. Chapter 4 - The Steamboat

Archie Bunker Vignettes

By: Kristi N. Zanker

**Author's Note: **I first wrote the following vignettes in 2003 and recently discovered them buried in the caverns of my computer. Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by Archie or Edith throughout different episodes of _All in the Family_. Since these events take place in another time during our history, the language, people, places, and actions are as authentic to the 1930s and 1940s as I can create them without officially being there. This story can be heard in the second season episode, Cousin Maude's Visit.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Bud Yorkin Productions, and Norman Lear/Tandem Productions. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of_ All in the Family_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** The following piece consists of mild language, some violence, and adult themes.

The Steamboat

June, 1940

By the time he was sixteen, Archie had a job at the bowling alley as a pin-boy on weekends and after school. In January, when Bayside High School was back in session, he had heard the boys in his class talking about what kind of work a pin-boy did. They all seemed to have gotten jobs at the bowling alley over the holidays, including Archie's best friends, Bobby and Charlie. The only thing holding him back was his age. He was still fifteen then, but his birthday was a little over two months away. He lied and said he was sixteen during the interview. But he was tall for his age—5'9" and still growing. To the manager at the bowling alley, Archie looked sixteen. He was told to report to the bowling alley after school the following Monday afternoon at four to start work.

The boy felt very proud since it was the first _real_ job he ever had. His mother warned him that school was important and he had to keep his grades up. She wanted him to be the first in their family to graduate from high school. Archie's parents had only completed the eighth grade. His father's lone remark about the job was that he show the earnings every week, which were then given to his mother for the food and utility bills. When the old man wasn't around, she'd gave Archie half of what he earned a week, saying that with his father's job and his own, they were doing better than they had in a long time. David Bunker worked for the railroad again, only this time he handed out tickets at the train station to passengers rather than working as a brakeman like before.

Archie had another money jar in his closet. He didn't spend it like he used to though. Once in a while he went to the movies, sometimes with Bobby and Charlie. But this time he was saving up to take a girl out for ice cream. He had enough money, but no girl yet.

Even though he was saving his money to take out a girl, Archie made sure he had enough for a pack of cigarettes. Lucky Strike became his favorite. He'd make the pack last until the next payday. He never smoked in the house because he knew his mother wouldn't approve, even though his father smoked his Camelsall the time. During the Spring Break in March, it was Bobby and Charlie who taught Archie how to smoke. In the basement of his two best friends' apartment building, Charlie pulled the pack of Luckies out of his jacket pocket. At first, the novice smoker felt very queasy, but as the days and cigarettes went by that feeling went away.

On an occasional Saturday, after a payday, the three of them went to different drugstores in the area to purchase their own packs of cigarettes by lying to the clerk, saying they were eighteen years old. Then, they'd go to the movie theater to watch girls sitting near them, and smoke. Sometimes, they'd get too rowdy from poking each other and laughing, that some of the girls threatened to call an usher. None of them wanted to be thrown out of the theater, so they quieted down and would watch the rest of the movie. Since he lived near Charlie and Bobby's apartment building, the three of them would walk to the high school and then the bowling alley for work. They would all smoke on the way to school or on the way home. They felt the cigarettes made them look more sophisticated like the movie stars they saw on the silver screen.

Archie had been working at the bowling alley for five months now. Each time someone knocked down pins, he would be in back of the alley pit to clear the fallen ones away or reset the ten pins. The first time he picked up a bowling pin, he was surprised at how heavy they were. He was also amazed at how far apart the pins actually were. From the bowler's point of view, the pins looked so close together and easy to knock down. With the pins being several inches away from one another, no wonder it was so hard to get a strike. Another part of the job was to send the bowling ball back to the bowler, which he did by pushing the ball in the ball-return gutter. Like the other pin-boys, Archie was in charge of two lanes and had to be alert at all times. If he wasn't, there would be angry bowlers shouting at him at the other end. Not only was Friday payday, but the manager allowed the pin-boys to bowl two free games. Each Friday night, his game improved more and more.

It was another Friday. Archie had just left Charlie and Bobby's building. As he turned the corner, walking close to his house, he threw a cigarette butt into the street. He had bowled well that night-a 115 and a 132. Archie had his paycheck in his pants pocket. He knew exactly what was going to happen when he came through the front door. The same thing happened every Friday night. He could picture it now. His father would be sitting by the radio and immediately say, "Did you get paid?" Archie would show him the check and he'd tell him to give it to his mother. He held onto the check in his pocket, ready. Bounding up the four steps, he turned the knob and opened the door.

Sure enough, his father sat transfixed next to the radio. Archie heard H. V. Kaltenborn's voice as he gave the news, which was almost always about the war in Europe. Lately the news was about how Hitler's Nazis kept on conquering countries like Luxembourg, Denmark, Holland and others. Archie went over to the other chair and sat across from his father. He folded his hands in his lap, waiting for the question. But there wasn't one tonight. After five minutes of sitting there, his father turned off the radio.

"I can't understand it, Archie," his father stated.

"Understand what, Pop?"

"Hitler. What does he want with all them countries?"

"He wanted war. That's what we've been learning in class recently. Well, he got his wish last year."

Archie hardly retained any information from class, but the war in Europe interested him, so he tried to remember things about that the best he could. He remembered learning about Austria and the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia. That was two years ago. The teacher had explained that many people in those countries spoke German, so Hitler decided to make them a part of Germany, alternating the map of Europe once again. He also couldn't understand what Hitler wanted with all those other countries.

"I was too young to fight in the last war and if we go to war and fight Hitler, I'll be too old," Archie's father said.

"I'll go fight."

"You? A Meathead like yourself can't fire a rifle at the Krauts." He chuckled. "Fred will be the one to go and come home decorated."

_Fred, Fred, it was always Fred! _Archie's mind shrieked.

He left it at that, but the pit in his stomach began to boil. They were having a decent conversation for once, and his father had to ruin it. He stood up and yanked the check out of his pants pocket.

"Fred hasn't brought home one of these yet!"

He shoved the check at his old man and stalked out of the room, only to head into the kitchen. He heard his mother coming down the stairs.

"Archie, what's the matter? I thought I heard you shouting."

"Awww, it's nothing Ma. Pop has my check."

"Oh, would you like something to eat? You must be starving."

A bowl of cut up apples sat in the center of the table. His mother pushed it toward him. Archie didn't want to stay in the house any longer. But to please his mother, he sat down and took a handful of slices. He thought about where he could go. He didn't feel like going to the movies and had already been to the bowling alley. He knew that the Puritan Made Ice Cream Parlor was open. A lot of people hung out there and it was a fun place to watch for girls.

"I'll have some more of these," he said, taking a few more slices. He ate quietly for a moment, while his mother got him a glass of milk and then sat across from him at the table. The anger began to slowly fade.

_Ma can fix anything. _

"I'm meeting some friends at the Puritan Made Ice Cream Parlor," Archie announced in between apple slices.

"Oh, Charlie and Bobby?" his mother asked.

"No, some other friends I met in my classes this year," Archie replied, after swallowing a couple of apple slices.

School had let out for the summer the week before. Archie had barely passed his sophomore year at Bayside High School, but now had only two more years to go before fulfilling his mother's wish for him to graduate.

"Well, be home by ten."

"I will."

After retrieving some money upstairs from the jar in the closet, he ran past his parents in the living room and out the door. He heard his father start to say "Where are you—?" But the slamming of the door cut him off.

He really didn't know who was going to be there. But it was eight-thirty on a Friday night and he knew some of his classmates would be at the ice cream parlor. He lit a cigarette as he walked down the street.

The Puritan Made Ice Cream Parlor was crowded tonight. When Archie walked in the door, the jukebox in the corner greeted him with Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine." Above the music and people talking, he heard someone call his name.

"Archie! Over here!" He saw a hand waving and weaved through the dancing crowd and the line that snaked around the outside of the counter to find Rupert Pratt, one of his classmates, sitting at a table by himself. Archie was surprised he sat there alone because he was popular in class, always getting laughs when he turned his eyelids inside out.

"You're the first person I've seen tonight from our class," Rupert said.

"I don't know what anyone else is doing, but I just got back from the bowling alley."

"Oh, I'm here on the look out for girls."

"I'll join ya," said Archie and sat down across from him.

As Archie watched the people around him, he noticed some of them were from college and others from Filmore High School. A few girls stood around the jukebox and one of them plunked a nickel in causing Jo Stafford's latest record, "Candy" to come on. A few couples began to slow dance in the aisles.

"I think we're the only ones from Bayside High tonight, Rupert. I don't see anyone I know either," said Archie.

"Yeah, I think we are. You wanna get something to eat?" asked Rupert.

"Okay, I'll get us some hot fudge sundaes," replied Archie.

Rupert gave Archie money for his sundae and then went to stand in line. As he stood there, waiting, he peered over at the two girls sitting in the corner booth. He then stared at the boy's head in front of him, but tuned his ear to the conversation across the aisle. He could hear one of them talking about President Roosevelt and how this girl was going to meet him and shake his hand when he came to New York again.

"I don't know if you'll get to do that, Maude," the girl across from her said, laughing. "If he doesn't win in this election, you'll have to shake the new President's hand instead."

"Oh no, I'm going to shake Roosevelt's hand. He'll win, I just know it," the girl named Maude replied.

The one across from Maude ate a steamboat; a large dessert with five different flavors of ice cream, three toppings, whipped cream, marshmallows, butter scotch—the works. On the menu, he had found the listing for the steamboat dessert and read its creation. He liked how the other girl looked in her light green dress with a little white square pattern over the front. Her medium brown hair was parted to the side, and held the loose strands together with a barrette. Tiny curls framed her face and ended slightly before it touched her shoulders. He wondered what would happen if he pulled one of the curls, would it go straight or still be curly. The dress the girl wore showed how mature she was and that made her look much older. He stared at her as she took another bite of her steamboat. She didn't look his way at all. Maude looked tall and skinny and had very little in front. Maude's hair was a shining blonde where soft curls hung past her shoulders. Sections of her hair were held by two barrettes. While he stood there waiting in line, Archie thought of a way to get the other girl's attention.

"Next in line…you, you're next in line. What would you like?" the college boy behind the counter asked Archie. He was so absorbed in getting that girl's attention, he almost didn't hear him.

"Oh yeah…I'll have two hot fudge sundaes with the works," said Archie.

"Coming right up."

Archie took another look at the two girls again as he waited for the sundaes. The girl he liked laughed hysterically at something Maude had said. Archie liked the way she laughed and talked. She had the voice of a little girl but the figure of a woman. He noticed she had gotten ice cream on her dress. If Archie was brave, he'd go over there and hand her a napkin.

_Then, she'd notice me, ask me my name. I'd ask hers. Then, maybe I'd ask her for a dance. Oh, it would be nice to hold her close… Stop dreaming!_ _ A nice girl like that wouldn't let you hold her too close, dummy! _The voice in his head scolded him. Archie shook his head to clear away any more of those kinds of thoughts. He didn't even know her. He felt ashamed even thinking about her like that. For all Archie knew, she may not even like him.

When the sundaes were ready, he paid for them and went back to the table where Rupert sat.

"I thought you were never coming back," said Rupert.

"I got more than I paid for," remarked Archie.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"See that booth in the corner—look at the girl in the green dress."

Rupert saw them and he whistled.

"She's really something, Archie. The other dame ain't bad either. How are you going to get her to notice you?"

"Let's move over there, to the booth behind them."

"Okay."

They took their sundaes and strolled casually over to the booth that was behind the girl called Maude.

"Go get me some straws," said Archie.

"What for?" asked Rupert.

"You'll see. This may be my best idea yet to get a girl's attention."

Rupert left the table to get the straws. This gave him a better view of his girl. He wished Maude would move over a little, but he could see her enough. He hoped she could see him.

"Here are the straws," his friend said, flinging them down in front of Archie.

He took the straws and stuck them up his nose. Rupert started to open his mouth, but Archie told him to shut up. Archie then began to bark like a walrus, quietly at first, then louder. Rupert busted out laughing. Archie then heard the girl's laughter along with Rupert's.

"What are you laughing at, Edith?" asked Maude.

_So, her name is Edith!_ Archie thought and smiled.

He'd found out her name! Maude now turned around and stared at Archie.

"Oh, _honestly_!" and instantly turned her back to him.

Archie took the straws out of his nose. His plan was working. Next, he stood up, gathered some hot fudge from his sundae into his hands, and smashed it against his stomach, to pretend he had been shot. He then took a bite of his sundae and let the hot fudge dribble out of his mouth. Next, Archie fell forward and hit his head on the table, not too hard, of course.

"Edith, ignore him." He heard Maude say.

The more Maude talked, the more Archie disliked her. But _his_ girl kept on giggling. Finally, he had the courage to walk over to her. He took a spoonful of his sundae first and cleaned his mouth with a napkin.

"Good luck," Rupert whispered as he began to walk toward her.

When he stood in front of Edith, his mind froze. She glanced up and smiled at him. The nerves in Archie's stomach began to grow. On an impulse, he raised his right hand and it came crashing down on Edith's steamboat. His arm was covered in the five flavors of ice cream, some of the whipped cream, marshmellows and butter scotch topping got on his shirt; also there was his chocolate wound. Edith could not stop giggling. It was Maude who spoke first.

"That was the most disgusting thing I've seen ever since my brother heaved up his whole dinner at his Confirmation."

Archie frowned. _How dare Maude bring up Confirmation while I'm trying to get Edith's attention! _

"Oh, you're so cute!" Edith exclaimed to Archie.

"Edith, _really!"_ Maude continued.

"The girl was talkin' to me!" Archie said to Maude.

Just then Rupert was at his side.

"Hey, you gals wanna see me turn my eyelids inside out?" Rupert proceeded to do his famous class clown stunt and he poked him in the ribs.

"Rupert will you get the hell outta here, huh?! I'm trying to talk to Edith! Can't you see that?"

"Gee, Archie, it looked like you needed help."

"Jeez, Rupert! When I need your help I'll ask for it. Now go sit over there. Your ice cream is turning into a pond."

"Edith, let's go. I feel faint," said Maude.

"Oh, Maude, are you okay?" asked Edith.

"No, Edith, it got too stupid in here all of a sudden." She glared at Archie.

_Maude is ruining everything! _

"Oh, he was just havin' fun," she said.

"Really, you'd be smart if you left right now." Maude started toward the door.

"I have to go now...Archie? Is that your name?" she asked and all he could do at that moment was nod his head.

"My cousin Maude is leaving," Edith continued.

"Let her go. I want to talk to you anyway, not her big mouth. What I mean is—I—can I—?"

_Damn you, Maude! I'm trying so hard to talk nice to Edith and look what you made me do! Say a mean thing about you, which is true though—you_ do_ have a big mouth!_

"You don't have to be nervous. What is it?" said Edith, smiling at him.

Just hearing that made him calm down. Her voice sounded so soothing.

"Can I see you again? When Maude isn't around? She made me nervous that's all," said Archie.

"Oh, sure! Don't worry about Maude. Here, I'll give you my number."

"Okay."

She opened her purse and took out a pencil and some paper.

"What school do you go to?" Edith asked.

"Uh, I'll be a junior at Bayside High in the fall."

"Oh, I'll be a sophomore—" she began.

"At Bayside?" asked Archie.

"No, at Filmore High, across town. Your school's our rival," Edith chuckled.

"Oh, I know that," was all he could say.

"Here's my number. Maude's waitin' for me. Bye, Archie." She gave a smile and a wave. He watched Edith walk out of the Puritan Made Ice Cream Parlor until he couldn't see her anymore.

He stared at the piece of paper. On it, she had written in smooth penmanship, _Edith Baines-BAyside 9-3909. _Archie folded the paper and stuffed it in his pants pocket.

When he got back to Rupert, he told his friend everything. Not only had he talked to a girl, he asked her out and even got her phone number! Archie had forgotten about the cold remarks from his father just an hour earlier. He couldn't wait to see Edith Baines again.

Copyright © 2003 by Kristi N. Zanker


	5. Chapter 5 - The Seduction

Archie Bunker Vignettes

By: Kristi N. Zanker

**Author's Note: **I first wrote the following vignettes in 2003 and recently discovered them buried in the caverns of my computer. Every vignette presented here is a Depression-era/Pre World War II story that was told either by Archie or Edith throughout different episodes of _All in the Family_. Since these events take place in another time during our history, the language, people, places, and actions are as authentic to the 1930s and 1940s as I can create them without officially being there. This story can be heard in the seventh season episode Archie's Secret Passion.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Bud Yorkin Productions, and Norman Lear/Tandem Productions. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _All in the Family_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** The following piece consists of mild language and adult themes.

The Seduction

August, 1941

Archie _did_ see Edith again after their first meeting at The Puritan Maid Ice Cream Parlor. He courted her into the spring and summer of 1940 and right into 1941. He didn't tell his parents about her though. He didn't want his father to find out that he was using some of his money from the pin-boy salary to take Edith out on school nights and weekends. If asked where he was going, he would tell his parents he was headed to see his two best friends, Bobby and Charlie. His father worked longer hours and did not come home until well after dinnertime. By the time Archie got home from a date, he would already be in bed. He believed his mother suspected something, for he was dressed so nice, and hair combed, but she kept quiet. Fred was hardly home, now that he started seeing girls as well.

He'd take the streetcar to Edith's house. Sometimes she'd be waiting for him on the porch, other times he rang the bell and her mother answered. Right away, he could tell she didn't like him. Archie couldn't figure out why, but her absence of a smile would tell everything. Archie brought Edith home before eleven on the weekends, and nine on a school night. He wasn't forward with her. Sometimes he thought about other things besides kissing Edith, but she was a good girl, and a good girl wouldn't do what Archie thought.

It was a Friday in August. After giving most of his pin-boy salary to his mother, Archie changed out of his school clothes and into a pair of slacks and a pin-striped buttoned down shirt. He glanced at himself in the mirror, and made sure his collar was down, that the buttons were buttoned correctly, and his hair looked good. After slicking it back with Murray's Superior Pomade, and applying after-shave lotion, he was ready to go. Tomorrow was the Bayside/Filmore High School Picnic. Two weeks before, he invited Edith to go, but she hadn't given an answer yet. Both schools met for an end-of-the-summer picnic every August, even though they were rivals during the football and basketball seasons.

While walking toward Edith's house, he saw her sitting in a whicker chair on the porch next to the front door. It was still warm out, but a light breeze helped everyone keep cool.

"Hello, Archie," said Edith, as she stood to meet him at the steps.

"Hey, Edith, how're you doin'?" he asked.

"Not too good," she replied.

"Why not? Aren't you going to the picnic with me tomorrow?"

"I can't, Archie."

"What? Why not?" He was stunned.

"I have to go to my aunt's house for the weekend. My mother told me tonight that I had to go. I'm all packed."

"Well, unpack everything and tell her you're goin' with me!"

"Archie, I can't. I want to go with you, but I can't."

Edith sounded like she was going to cry. Archie didn't like to see her cry, but he also didn't want her to be hurt. A breeze picked up and her curly hair lifted off her shoulders. Archie put his arms around her and she hugged him back.

"Edith, I had this planned for two weeks, I was sure you were gonna go with me," Archie said into her hair.

Edith let go of Archie, but held onto his hands as she spoke.

"Archie, I can't go with you tomorrow because my mother says I shouldn't be seein' you so much."

_Damn her to Hell!_ Archie's mind cursed her mother some more.

"_What_?! That's the dumbest thing I ever heard of!" Archie turned around and punched the air.

Just then the front door swung open and Edith's mother stood there.

"Edith, time for you to come in. We're leaving early in the morning," she said, not even looking over at Archie.

"Archie, I'll see you when I get back." She kissed him on the cheek.

Archie watched as Edith hurried into the house and the door slammed by her mother. Archie was so mad, he stood there frozen.

_She must've heard me! She must've been watching us!_

He calmed down enough to walk down the stairs and back to the corner where the streetcar would pick him up. While waiting there, he kicked the lamppost. Luckily no one else was around.

Archie's mother was surprised to see him home so early. He munched on a plate of chocolate chip cookies while he told his mother, who sat across from him, what Edith's mother said.

"I didn't want to tell anything to anyone right away about Edith. But I _really_ care for her and I _really_ wanted to take her to that picnic tomorrow!"

"Maybe her mother will come around next week," his mother said.

"I hope so, but I never liked her and I always will!" was his reply.

"Archie, you shouldn't say that."

"I know, I know."

"Archie, I've noticed a change in you this year, since you started seeing her. You're growing up—"

"Awww, jeez. Ma!" He waved a hand in front of him and then took a drink of milk.

"Now, I mean it…you take better care of your things and this girl must really care about you. You two have been courting for awhile now, is that right?"

"I'd like to bring her over sometime, but I'm afraid at what Pop would say. He'd find out I was spending some money on her when I should bring it home to you. I know things are bad right now, but I have so much fun when I'm with Edith."

"How about when her mother comes around, you can invite her over for dinner."

"I hope her mother will come around…after tonight, I don't know if she'll let me see Edith again."

The next morning, Archie was greeted with a hot and humid day. It was a beautiful day for the Picnic, which didn't begin until eleven. After breakfast, he wanted to push the hands of the clock to eleven. Instead, he switched on the radio and went up and down the dial to see if any good programs or music was on. After a few minutes, he snapped off the radio.

Fred bounced into the room.

"You ready for the picnic, Archie?" he asked.

"Does it look like I'm ready?" the older brother retorted.

"Jeez, what did I do?"

"Nothin', nothin'…it's just that, I wish I were…nevermind! What I mean is, I wish I wasn't going with _you_ to the picnic!"

"Don't worry, I'll get out of your way as soon as we get there. I wouldn't want _you_ to be around all my girlfriends."

"What girlfriends? You never bring anyone home. Wait a minute, I _know_ what kind of girls _you're_ seein'. Girls you wouldn't want Ma to see, huh? Isn't that it?"

"Well, I don't see _you_ bringing anyone home either!"

"I was goin' to, but Edith's mother took her away from me this weekend!"

"So, you _are_ seein' that girl? The one I saw you with at the ice cream parlor a few weeks ago?"

When Archie had enough money saved up, he and Edith would go to the Puritan Maid Ice Cream Parlor and each try something new on the menu. It was their favorite place for obvious reasons.

"Yes! Yes, it's her!" Archie said.

"Wow, how long have you been seein' her?" asked Fred.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Archie decided he could tell him about Edith.

"Since June of last year," answered Archie.

"I never knew—" Fred began to say, but was interrupted by his older brother.

"You were always busy with your schoolwork or girlfriends to notice, I guess," said Archie.

"Well, it's almost eleven. We'd better go," said Fred.

"Yeah, we'd better."

The two boys bounded out the door.

"Freddy, oh, Freddy, over here!" A girl called. Archie looked over at Fred and snorted.

He then heard a squeal to his left. A few feet from him stood a long picnic table with three gabby girls at it. The middle girl in the purple dress had been the one who called to his brother. Ignoring Archie, Fred ran over to them. The three girls squealed happily.

"Oh, _Gawd_, gag me with a spoon!" Archie said quietly. "_He'll _be occupied for awhile."

Archie browsed each of the tables. He saw many of his classmates—Rupert Pratt, who still did his eye lid bit, Bobby and Charlie, and a few boys who also worked at the bowling alley with him. He saw a lot of the girls in his class. He didn't like any of them really. They were too snobby and gossipy for his likening. There was a table filled with food—salads, sandwiches, brownies, cookies and an ice cream vendor stood at the end. Another table had a phonograph on it and the President of the Student Council switched the records after each song ended. Archie grabbed a sandwich from the table and began to eat it. He constantly thought of Edith and wished she would've been there too. Then, he walked around and said hello to his friends and that's when he noticed Delores Manchini.

Everyone knew about Delores. She had an hour glass 36-24-36 figure, natural blonde curls, beautiful skin, and a bad reputation. She went on dates with many boys, Archie would hear the others talking about her in the locker room at school. He enjoyed the stories they told, whether they were true or not. When he'd get some new details, he'd share them with Bobby and Charlie after school. He'd been with girls, but not "all the way."

At the picnic, Delores wore a bright yellow dress and her hair was pulled back from her face with two barrettes. He watched as she sauntered over to him.

"Hi, Archie," she said.

"Hi, Delores."

"Where's Edith?"

"Oh, Edith, uh, well, she couldn't make it today."

"Oh, that's too bad, she's missing out."

"You don't have to tell _me_ that, Delores."

"How about if I be your date for the day."

"Well, I don't know about that—"

"Oh, it'll be fun…come on, buy me a Fudgesicle."

Delores grabbed his hand and began to pull him toward the ice cream vendor.

"A fudgesicle please for the girl there," Archie asked the vendor.

"Comin' right up…that'll be five cents, mister," said the vendor.

Archie gave the man a nickel and Delores the fudgesicle.

"Don't you want anything, Archie?" asked Delores.

"Naw, I already had a sandwich."

"Let's take a walk, Archie. Follow me."

"What? Aren't we going to stay here?"

"No, it's getting too crowded, I need some fresh air."

"Okay, then."

The two walked through the tiny trail that led to the baseball field near the back of Bayside High School. Archie watched as Delores took slow licks of her fudgesicle. She held her other hand in his.

"Delores? I don't think—" he began to say.

"You want a taste?" she said interrupting him, while shoving the fudgesicle near his face. The sun slowly pulled the chocolate toward the ground.

"Uh, no, you—you eat that," was all he could say. Suddenly, his mouth went dry.

"Oh, it's very good!"

"No, I don't want it now, uh, want that now…I—I mean, you've already ate it," he stammered.

"No, there's still some left. Here."

She handed him the dripping fudgesicle. Archie took a bite. The coolness of chocolate and Delores filled his insides.

"He—here, Delores. You can have the rest."

They stood on the baseball field, near the dugout.

"What's the matter, Archie? Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Nervous? Why would I be—" before he could finish, Delores kissed him ferociously. He'd never been kissed that way before.

"I don't think you should do that." After a kiss like that, Archie could hardly speak. For reasons he couldn't understand, he felt afraid all of a sudden.

"Why not?"

She put her arms around him and moved closer. Archie felt everything, and a part of him liked it very much.

"Delores, _please_."

She kissed him again, this time she used her tongue. Archie's mind was clouded as he put his arms around her and caressed her back, while kissing Delores. She moaned softly, then took his hand and led it to her breast. His fingers squeezed it gently.

When they broke from their kiss, Delores whispered, "Let's go over here."

Knowing full well he should not follow her, Archie found himself in the dugout with Delores Manchini.

They both had their backs to one another as they buttoned or zipped up whatever had been undone. Archie's mind screamed at him.

_Oh God! Why did I do that?! Edith! Edith! I wanted you to be here! This would've never happened if you were here with me! I wouldn't do those things I did with her to you! No, you're a good girl! Look at what happened because you weren't here with me! Edith, I love you! Please come back…_

"Archie, Archie!" he heard Delores's voice.

She stood in front of him, snapping her fingers in front of his face. He pushed her hand away from him.

"Will you knock it off?" he said.

Archie walked past her, and started heading down the trail. Delores caught up with him.

"Are you mad at me, Archie?" she asked.

"No—_yes_! How can you do that to me!"

"Do what? You liked it, and I liked it."

"Well, yes, but—"

"Where have you two been?" another voice said.

Archie felt like he ran into a wall.

It was Alma Simpson. Her red hair shone as she stood at the opening of the trail. Archie could see people talking and laughing at the picnic. They had only been gone for a half hour, but it seemed like several days.

"None of your business, Alma. Archie and I just went for a walk, that's all." Delores said, smiling at him, only he did not smile back. As they reached the opening of the trail and to the table where the ice cream vendor stood, Delores whispered to Archie, "Thanks for the fudgesicle."

And she was gone.

Archie shook his head, trying to clear away everything that had just happened.

Copyright © 2003 by Kristi N. Zanker


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